


Video Games and Fake Boyfriends

by GlassAlice



Series: Voltron Amino Weekly October Prompts [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: All cuss words are quiznak and crow, Cuban Lance (Voltron), Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Gender-Neutral Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, KEmo, Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Keith Emo, Keith is bad at crafts, Keith's last name is Yoon, Korean Keith (Voltron), Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, Lance's last name is Serrano, M/M, OctoberPrompts2k17, Voltron Amino
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-08
Updated: 2017-11-01
Packaged: 2019-01-10 13:39:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12300264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlassAlice/pseuds/GlassAlice
Summary: There was no way they were going to stand idly by while the others made bets about their private lives. Lance looked over at Keith during breakfast the next day. They had discussed their plan to get together so it looked natural from an outside perspective. Pidge was planning a Halloween party for everyone, after Lance had casually dropped that it was October, so they decided that was when they were going to tell everyone they knew about the bet.Until then, it was time to play with their friends’ emotions.





	1. Operation Fake Fall Boyfriend

**Author's Note:**

> This is -Week 1- of the the Voltron Amino October Prompts: Write about the paladins getting ready for Fall/Halloween.
> 
> I also decided to do a "we have to pretend to be together because!" fic. This will be 2 parts. Enjoy! <3

“Get off the GF2, Lance. It’s my turn now.” Pidge whined and reached for the controller. 

Lance stood up and held the controller as high as the cord would let him, smashing buttons brutally. He stuck one foot out to push Pidge away, “I still got three more dobashes and I’m almost at the boss.” 

“Yeah, well, I created the converter so we could even play this on holo-screens, so I get priority.” Pidge jumped for the controller, throwing the one-legged Lance off balance and they both tumbled to the ground. Lance fell hard on his elbows, straining his neck to keep sight of the screen as he fell. Pidge landed on top of Lance, who was all bone and sharp angles. Pidge winced at the contact as his sharp hipbone met a soft stomach, knocking air from the smaller paladin.

But Lance recovered quickly, ignoring Pidge in favor of more button-mashing. The screen above them flashed as one of his players shot a fireball, bathing the blue and green paladins in reds and yellows. He whooped as the attack flashed _Combo_ on the screen taking a huge chunk from the boss’s health bar.

Pidge snatched at the opportunity, literally. Pidge dug a hand into Lance’s stomach, launching forward, causing the other paladin to let out a harsh, “Oof” and curl in defensively. Pidge’s small fingers wrapped themselves around the gray plastic controller and tugged. The controller ripped from Lance’s long fingers and Pidge stood up triumphantly holding the controller above their head.

Lance sat coughing while tears flooded his vision; he squeezed his eyes closed and gripped his stomach, “Holy quiznacking crow, Pidge, what the quiznack?” The room went dark and the change of light caused Lance to open his eyes. 

_You Died. Game Over._ flashed in bloody red letters on the black holo-screen. 

“Pidge! You crow-eating gremlin,” Lance yelled, pain temporarily forgotten as he rounded on the smallest paladin, “Seriously, what the hell? I lost everything!”

Pidge was already resetting the GF2 and pulling out a different cartridge. Pidge waved their hand dismissively, “Your time’s up, it’s my turn.”

“I still had three dobashes!” Lance used the sleeve of his blue baseball shirt to wipe the corner of his eyes, “Not cool, bro.” 

“No, you didn’t, you were over time, and it’s my turn. And don’t call me bro, dude.” 

Lance huffed and crossed his arms, “Hunk wouldn’t treat me like this!”

Pidge rolled their eyes and hit the start button on the game, “Yeah, so go cry to him, then.” 

Lance threw his arms up in the air, “Well, maybe I will!”

Pidge shrugged, “Fine.”

“Fine!” Lance stormed out of the room, hands shoved deep in his pockets. He took one last look at Pidge, the blue of the screen casting shadows on thin-framed glasses, total concentration on the game. “Whatever, Pidge,” Lance sighed flatly.

He stepped out of the room and the sliding doors closed behind him. He ambled down the hall in the direction of his room.

Turning the corner, Lance paused at the sound of Shiro’s voice floating down the hallway, “I want no part of this. I don’t even like that you’re doing this. I should really shut it down.”

Curiosity overtaking him, Lance put a hand over his mouth to quiet his breathing and tiptoed forward, careful not to set off any automatic doors.

“C’mon, Shiro, It’s all just for fun. Even Allura is in on it.” It was Hunk this time.

“And that is the only reason I’m allowing this to go on. What you guys are doing is going to end up with someone hurt, I just know it.” Shiro’s voice was even and quiet, but Lance knew that tone from all the times Shiro reprimanded him and it sent a shiver down his spine. 

“Lighten up, Shiro. We’re only betting video game time and the bet is so dumb that no one is going to win. Why don’t you just join for the team bonding?” Lance could tell Hunk had turned on his big brown puppy dog eyes, he didn’t even need to see it.

 _What bet are they talking about?_ Lance wanted to get closer but was scared of setting off The Shiro Sense.

There was a long pause before Shiro replied, “Fine. But only because Keith and Lance would never date, so there’s no point in betting in the first place. You can put me down for ‘never going to happen’.” Shiro gave in, who could resist those brown eyes?

Lance froze, breath hitching. _There was a bet? On if he and Keith would get together?_

Hunk’s voice interrupted his thoughts, “Same as Allura, then. How many hours are you going to bet?”

“I don’t even use my game time hours, Hunk,” Shiro sighed, his voice dipping low.

“Yeah, well, you have to bet time. If you lose then someone gets your hours, and we gotta know how many.”

“Fine. I’ll bet two hours of game time a week for the rest of my life.” Shiro’s voice turned curt and Lance heard heavy footsteps approach him.

Lance carefully backed away, trying to make as little noise as possible. His brain felt sluggish. It just kept repeating the conversation over and over in his head. Until his brain came to a complete halt on a single phrase, causing his whole body to freeze up.

_I’ll bet two hours of game time a week for the rest of my life._

They were betting GF2 playtime hours.

His eyes grew wide and he hopped into a sprint. He passed his door and ran straight for Keith’s. He skid to a halt, almost flying past his destination, and pounded on the metal doors.

“Keith, open up, I know you’re in there. It’s Lance!” Lance yelled.

The doors slid open and a very disgruntled Keith glared at him, “I know it’s you, Lance. Who else would scream and bang on my door?” 

Lance ignored him, “We gotta talk, can you talk? Of course you can, what else are you doing? Listening to emo music while you count the cracks in your ceiling?” Lance tried to push past him as he rambled, but Keith stood his ground. He placed on hand on Lance’s chest and Lance looked down at it in annoyance.

“There are no cracks in my ceiling. The castle is old, but very structurally sound.” Keith deadpanned.

Lance’s mouth did a wonderful impression of a fish before he snapped it closed, “Oh my God, Keith, just no.” He tried to push past Keith again and to his mild surprise Keith let him in with only a small struggle.

The doors slid closed as Lance entered and he looked around. The room looked the same as all the others, except for maybe Pidge’s which was covered in tech. The only difference was the red coat hanging on the wall, and the aroma. The whole room smelled of musk and fresh laundry. It smelled like Keith. 

“So what did you want to talk about?” Keith broke Lance out of his reverie with a brusque inquiry.

Lance spun around to face Keith, “Go out with me,” Lance took a step forward, “and then we can get all the GF2 time we want.”

Keith wasn’t sure what he was expecting Lance to say, but it wasn’t this. His heart sped up and his palms started to sweat. This was so far away from any possible sentence he might have expected out of Lance that Keith was frozen in place. It made no sense. Keith tried to tumble the words around in his head, putting them in different orders, hoping to make something out of them. 

Nothing. 

“Well?” Lance asked, one eyebrow raised.

Keith realized he had probably taken too long to come up with a response, but he had no idea how to answer. He tried opening his mouth, hoping something would happen on its own. All that came out was a small, “Huh?”

Lance paled, “Oh no! No, bro. Not like that.” Lance shook his head and waved his arms in a big no gesture.

“Did you get into the space juice, Lance? I’m going to have to ask you to leave my room.“ Keith made a gesture to the door, expecting Lance to let himself out.

Lance held up a finger and waved it at Keith, “No, you don’t get it. The other’s have a bet, that we’re going to date and they’re betting game time! I have a plan to get all that sweet sweet game time to myself.” Lance eyed Keith and quickly rephrased, “to _ourselves_. We can get back on everyone for betting on us _and_ split the game time 50/50!” Lance smiled and looked at Keith expectantly.

Keith felt his heart fall into his stomach, of course Lance wasn’t _really_ asking him out. Lance was never serious about anything, ever. Except maybe video games. That explained why Lance was willing to do something like this. Keith crossed his arms.

“I’m listening.” No need to say yes, Keith told himself. But if he didn’t let Lance at least _try_ to talk him into it, he’d never hear the end of this. Ever.

“Yes! Okay, here’s the plan. We pretend to get together, slowly of course, that way no one is suspicious. Then once we have everyone convinced, BAM, we tell everyone we knew about the bet all along. Make them feel bad, reprimand them using Shiro’s signature dad voice, then guilt them into giving us all the time they bet,” Lance explained making big gestures with his arms as he spoke.

Keith thought for a minute, “Who all is in on this bet?”

“I’m not sure, but I’d cut my own leg off if Pidge wasn’t the one that started it. Seems like Hunk is collecting the bets and I know for a fact both Shiro and Allura placed one.” Lance shook his head, “Betrayed by our own space parents.” 

“Wait, Shiro placed a bet? What did he bet?” Keith’s folded arms opened slightly along with his mouth.

“Sure did. That’s how I found out. Shiro said, and I quote, ‘You can put me down for Keith and Lance never happening’.” Lance paraphrased. “He bet two hours a week of game time that we wouldn’t ever get together.” Lance wrinkled his nose, “He probably would have won too if I hadn’t overheard him.”

Red flooded Keith’s face. He’d never told Shiro about his secret crush. Shiro probably thought he hated Lance, but that was no excuse. _Shiro was like a brother to him_ , and his brother had made a bet on his love life. That was not okay.

“Fine. I’m in. What do I need to do?” Keith’s mouth said before his brain had finished thinking it through. His eyes widened in surprise at his impulsive decision, but Lance’s face just exploded with smiles in return. 

“Yeah! I knew we’d make a good team.” Lance whooped and stepped forward, pulling Keith into a side-hug and dragging him to the bed. Lance pushed him down onto the mattress before dumping himself into a gangly pile on the floor.

Lance looked up at Keith with a mischievous smirk, “Listen up, Keith. Cause we gotta do this just right.”

-X-

Lance looked over at Keith during breakfast the next day. They had discussed their plan to get together so it looked natural from an outside perspective. Pidge was planning a Halloween party for everyone, after Lance had casually dropped that it was October, so they decided that was when they were going to tell everyone they knew about the bet. Until then, it was time to play with their friends’ emotions. 

_Operation Fake Fall Boyfriend, begin._

Lance reached over to Keith’s spoon and grabbed it, along with Keith’s hand. He coughed loudly to make sure everyone saw the “mishap” before pulling his hand away. Keith blushed darkly and Lance silently admired his acting skills. 

“Keep your hand off my side of the table.” Keith pushed down his feelings and reminded himself that this was all an act. Plus, he had stake in this too. Shiro was going to pay for betting on Keith’s personal life, pay with his gaming hours. 

“Whatever, mullet,” Lance said, but far more casually than usual. Lance made sure that any of the usual venom behind the insult was missing.

Lance saw Pidge sit up straighter and elbow Hunk out of the corner of his eye. _It’s working_ , he smirked to himself.

They made sure to keep a wide berth around each other for the rest of breakfast. The keyword here was ‘slow’. They had to make it look natural. 

The next show was planned for that night, right after debriefing. Lance made sure that he was the first out the door. Keith’s job was to wait til everyone was looking and then purposefully bump into him.

Lance tried to keep his stride casual while he waited. There it was. Keith’s shoulder ran into his and a leather-gloved hand brushed softly across the back of his hand as the dark-haired paladin strode past him.

Lance didn’t have to fake the blush that spread across his face. _What was that? Did he mean to touch my hand?_ Lance could feel a faint tingling left by soft leather where it had brushed his hand. 

_Play it cool, man. Stick to the script._

Lance called out to Keith’s back, “I thought we were supposed to keep to our personal space, jerk.”

Keith looked back over his shoulder, dark hair falling into his eyes, “You were in my way.”

“Oh, that’s it!” Lance knew it was all a game, but he never had much control around the Red Paladin. He took two large steps forward until he was completely in Keith’s face. He poked at Keith’s chest as he spoke, “I was walking first, you could have just gone around me.” Lance took a quick glance to make sure the others were watching. They were.

“The world doesn’t revolve around Lance Serrano. I can walk where I want.” Keith pressed his body against Lance’s finger and they were now glaring at each other nose-to-nose. 

Lance’s breath stuck in his throat. From this close he could see the light graphite flecks in Keith’s dark aubergine eyes, and noticed the faint sanguine blush of his cheeks. The musky scent that he was sure was Keith’s shampoo overwhelmed his senses. He was knocked back to reality by Shiro’s voice.

“Come on guys, knock it off.” Shiro held up his hands and made himself small, as if approaching a pair of wild animals.

Lance looked at Shiro, then back at Keith. He pushed down the strange feeling in his stomach. Then, just like they practiced, he made the best surprised face that he could, as if he wasn’t already aware of how close they were. Lance hid his face with the back of his hand and ran to his room. That last part was improvised, but he felt like it was in character.

He took slow, even breaths once he was safely behind his door. Keith was supposed to join him as soon as he got away from the others so that they could discuss how their plan was going. He took that time to calm down his fluttering heart. 

He waited til he heard footsteps in front of his door and opened it a crack.

Keith was standing there, fist poised to knock.

Lance grinned and grabbed the hovering hand, pulling Keith inside and closing the doors behind them.

“O-m-g, that was amazing. Do you think they fell for it?” Lance’s grin was wide and his teeth were pearly white next to his tan skin. The bigger he smiled, the less it looked like something was wrong, and nothing _was_ wrong.

“Yeah, I think they bought it,” Keith sighed, leaning against the wall.

“We only have a few more days to pull this off, then we’ll be swimming in GF2 play hours!” Lance held up his fist for a fist bump.

Keith looked at his fist and then back up to Lance’s face.

“It’s a fist bump, my dude. C’mon.” Lance tried to explain.

Keith just kept looking at him blankly.

“Oh my God. You make a fist, like this and bump it into mine, like so.” Lance grabbed Keith’s wrist and bumped his limp hand into his fist to show him.

“Why?” Keith quirked an eyebrow, hand still dangling from Lance’s fingers.

“Because, it’s cool? I don’t know. Does everything need a reason for you?” Lance asked.

Keith pulled a face and Lance rolled his eyes. He was about to turn around when Keith’s fingers wrapped themselves into a fist.

“Yes! My man!” Lance whooped as he bumped Keith’s fist. “Let’s get to work on phase two!” Lance pulled Keith over to his bed and pushed him down. This time Lance joined him, sitting cross legged across from him.

They talked long into the night, practicing and acting out scenes, going over what they’d say to any questions that came up, making sure their answers were normal but ambiguous. Lance was better at winging it, and if he practiced too much it would start to sound stiff. But for Keith, the longer he practiced the more natural it became. So they ended up with Lance just saying random crap and Keith replying with the same sentence over and over.

As the hours marched on, their words became mostly yawns and the pair started to nod off, waking occasionally with a start when the other one poked them, and poking the other in turn as they began to drowse.

“I should get,” Keith interrupted himself with a huge yawn that spread contagiously to Lance, “t’bed,” he finished, his words slurring with drowsiness.

Lance hummed in agreement and flopped down on his bed, “Yeah, let’s sleep.”

Keith started to rise but stopped short, remembering something, “Are we starting the hand-holding after Hunk’s costume sewing party or before?”

Lance lifted a heavy eyelid and mumbled, “I guess it doesn’t matter, as long as it looks like we’re trying to hide it.”

Keith nodded and rested his back against the wall at the foot of the bed, “If we do it during, we have more time before the pretend kiss,” Keith thought mostly to himself. Watching Lance was making him sleepy and it was hard to keep his eyes open.

“Yeah, but we can’t rush this. Which one would Pidge buy?” Lance mumbled into his pillow, muffling most of the words.

Keith closed his eyes to think, grunting in the back of his throat. _Pidge was pretty sharp, maybe it would be better to do it after_ , Keith thought. 

Keith jolted awake, rubbing the palms of his hands into his eyes. That was close, he’d almost fallen asleep in Lance’s bed. He had to get out of there before it got too late.

He ran his hands down his face and opened his eyes. There, lying just across from him, was Lance. His face was so different, relaxed and serene. Lance’s cocky smile was gone, replaced by a slightly parted mouth. Puffs of air rhythmically blew against his cheek as Lance breathed. The artificial light was dim, simulating early morning and casting a golden tint to Lance’s hair and skin. 

Without thinking Keith’s hand reached out and ran a finger gently down the curve of the other boys jaw. _Soft._

Lance rustled and Keith pulled his hand back like he’d been burned. _What the hell are you doing?_ he berated himself.

Lance’s blue eyes slowly peeked out from under his dark lashes, the pupils huge and unfocused.

“Keith?” Lance’s voice was confused and scratchy with disuse.

Keith panicked. He couldn’t let Lance know he’d slept there all night, “I’m going back to my room, now, good night.”

“Mmm’ight.” Lance drawled, eyes fluttering shut again.

Keith quickly backed out, sneaking out of Lance’s room as quietly as he could. It was morning, but it was still too early for anyone to be awake. Once he’d made it safely back to his quarters he let out a sigh, leaning back against his doors as they closed behind him.

Keith ran a hand through his black hair, _Oh crow, Lance was cute._ What did he do now? No, nothing had changed. Lance was only cute because he was half asleep. _Everyone_ is cute when they sleep. As soon as Lance was awake again everything would go back to normal. It was just a trick of the light and his sleep-muddled brain.

How had he ended up sleeping across from Lance in the first place? The last thing he remembered was sitting at the end of Lance’s bed and talking about their plans, then, nothing.

“What have you gotten yourself into, Keith Yoon?” Keith banged his head against the door.

-X-

Lance woke with a start as his room door closed with a _shick_. It wasn’t nighttime. It was clearly morning. And Keith had just left. Meaning that they had slept, together, in the same bed. Lance’s mind worked hard to piece everything together through the sleepy haze.

Keith’s face was burned clearly into his mind. Dark hair falling into his face, dusty red cheeks, a warm finger on his jaw. 

Wait.

Keith had slept in his bed, and then touched his face. What did this mean? Did Keith really _like him_ like him? Or was he just practicing? 

_Why would he be practicing when he thought you were asleep_? Lance chastised himself.

He sat up in bed and buried his face in his hands. Why did he feel so hot? The sheets were burning against his skin and all his clothes felt sweaty. He sucked in a deep breath and did what he did best--pushed the feelings down until he couldn’t feel them anymore.

“Time for a shower!” Lance grabbed his towel and jogged to the group showers. It was still early so the area was abandoned. Lance took his time cleaning away the grime from the previous day, washing away any leftover feelings in peaceful solitude.

By the time he exited the shower, Lance felt refreshed and ready for the day. He whistled as he walked to the galley. 

Hunk cooked today, he could smell it as he approached. When he entered the galley Pidge and Shiro were talking and Keith sat on Shiro’s right, the one place at the table that Lance couldn’t sit next to.

Lance glared at Keith. _What happened to the plan?_ They were supposed to sit next to each other until the Halloween bit. All that time strategizing possible costume crossovers and how to act while eating, all of it wasted. Lance shot a look at Shiro like it was his fault. 

Keith and Shiro had always shared a bond that Lance envied, he could admit that now. But why hide behind Shiro all of a sudden? Who cared about this morning? Or last night. Or whatever.

Unless there was another reason? What if Keith wanted out of their deal? Lance slumped and walked over to the table. Hunk had decorated it in fall colors to go with the leaf-shaped pancakes.

Pidge’s eyes darted between Lance and Keith, and Lance quickly looked away before the Green Paladin could read anything he was thinking. 

He sat himself on the other side of Shiro. Two could play at this game. Although Lance wasn’t quite sure what game they were playing anymore.

He picked up his plate and leaned over Shiro, brushing up against his side, piling something that smelled like pumpkin pancakes and brown sugar cinnamon oatmeal on his plate before making sure he slid against Shiro again on his way back to his chair.

Shiro stiffened visibly, his eyes wide. He cleared his throat awkwardly, “You could have just asked me to pass the food, Lance.”

Lance made his eyes big and plastered an innocent look on his face, “But you work so hard, Shiro. I didn’t want to make you have to get it when I can reach it just fine.”

“I wouldn’t call that fine,” Keith grumbled from the other side of Shiro.

Pidge was now looking back and forth between them, Lance had to get this back under control. He was supposed to be pretending to _like_ Keith. Not this, not... whatever was going on.

“Stay out of this, mullet, no one asked you.” Lance bent forward, leaning around Shiro to look at Keith, trying to get his attention so they could get back to their plan. Keith’s eyes met his for a hot minute and Lance put all the _what about our plan_ feelings he could into his face.

Keith stood up and put his hands on his hips, “What is your obsession with my hair? Huh? I don’t understand why you hate it so much.”

Lance put his hand on Shiro’s shoulder to give himself some leverage and balance as he leaned further toward Keith, “It’s stupid, like your face. Stupid 80’s mullet. Stupid emo face.”

Pidge watched the scene unfold as they sipped on Hunk’s Hot Chocolate sans Chocolate. It was some sort of combination of space food that ended up tasting somewhere between chocolate and malt. The sweet drink complimented the bitter fight in front of them perfectly. 

Shiro tried to get Lance and Keith’s attention to stop the argument, “I think maybe we should..”

Keith slammed his fist on the table causing everyone, including Shiro to jump. “Yeah, well, I don’t care what you think about my hair! I don’t care what you think about my face! I don’t care if you flirt with Shiro!” Shiro tried to jump in again but Keith spoke over him, “or any of the millions of alien girls we meet! I don’t care about _you!_ ” With that Keith kicked his chair away and stormed out of the room.

Lance fell back in his seat and sat there slack jawed, staring at the space that Keith used to occupy. Tears prickled the back of his eyes but he refused to let them fall. Keith hadn’t said anything that Lance didn’t already know, he knew he was the seventh wheel and he knew that no one, especially Keith, _actually_ cared about him.

Pidge cleared their throat, smirking uncontrollably, “Um, I’m not sure what’s going on between you two. But I think you might want to go after Mr. Jealous.” 

“Jealous?” Lance repeated dully.

Pidge shrugged and went back to eating space pumpkin pancakes in the shape of leaves. Lance turned to Shiro, hoping he’d have some wisdom.

Shiro looked like a deer in headlights for .02 seconds before snapping out of it and awkwardly placing a hand on Lance’s shoulder, “I support whatever you decide to do.”

“Oh. Uh, thanks. I guess.” Lance slumped under the weight of Shiro’s hand and poor pep talk.

Lance slowly got out of his chair and walked after Keith. The longer he walked the faster his pace got, until eventually Lance was in an all-out sprint. 

He checked the training deck and the viewing room. He finally knocked on Keith’s door, but no luck there either. Maybe Keith just wasn’t answering, or maybe he was hiding somewhere else in the castle, there was no way to know. 

Lance sighed and banged his head on Keith’s door, “Look, buddy, maybe I’m talking to an empty room or maybe you’re hiding from me. But we gotta stick together for the cause.” Lance waited, listening to see if Keith was in the room for sure or not. Nothing. Lance sighed, _I guess I have to be the bigger man and apologize, c’mon Lancey Lance, you got this._ “An...and I’m sorry about earlier. I know you and Shiro have a thing. So...sorry for overstepping my boundaries or something.”

“We don’t have a _thing_.” The voice came from behind him.

Lance jumped, “Oh, Keith! There you are! Look, man. I didn’t…” Keith held up a hand stopping Lance in his tracks.

“Me and Shiro,” Keith pressed, “don’t have a thing, Lance. He’s like my _brother_.”

Lance shifted and shoved his hands into his pockets, “You just seemed really upset that I got in his space, or something.”

“Shiro can take care of himself, and you can flirt with whoever you want. I don’t care. Let’s just concentrate on the mission.” Keith glared at Lance, his eyes holding a chill that Lance hadn’t seen since he’d first met Keith.

“Oh. Okay then, sure. Let’s just keep going with the plan! You ready to freak everyone out at the costume making party?” Lance wiggled his eyebrows, using all the bravado he could muster to keep afloat in the conversation.

“Yeah, let’s just get this over with,” said Keith, pushing past Lance and entering his room.

Lance almost followed, but the doors slid shut. He stared at the closed door panels before hitting himself on the head with his hand, “God, Lance you always do this to yourself.”

He spun on his heel and trudged off. Maybe some training would take his mind off things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo thanks for reading! Chapter 2, the end of this fic, will be posted on week 5! Until then enjoy my one shots for this Promptober thing. Next will be a spooky halloween story staring Lance :3
> 
> Special thanks to [Starbuck7](http://starbuck-7.tumblr.com/) for being the best editor in the world!
> 
> [Stalk me on Tumblr!](http://yuzuling.tumblr.com/) Because I love you!


	2. Careful Lies and Rushed Confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Everyone knows!" Lance’s head shot up looking Keith dead in the eye, “Pidge knows. Hunk knows. Allura knows. Everyone knows! That’s why they all bet that we wouldn’t be dating, because you’re with Shiro! So. Stop. Lying.” He dug his nails into his palms as white-hot anger coursed through him, fueling him with the courage to finally say it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Week 5-
> 
> Voltron Amino October Prompts - Paladins Celebrating Halloween
> 
>  
> 
> Ah this is really late *cries* does anyone even care anymore?

Things had been tense between the red and blue paladins ever since that breakfast. Lance was beginning to think that their plan was destined for failure. Keith had refused to sit next to him ever since the _incident_ and today was the costume making party, the day the pair was supposed to _hold hands_. Keith’s radio silence meant Lance wasn’t sure if they were sticking to their plan or not. Was Keith still planning on keeping up the charade, or was he just back to his normal self? 

In either case, Lance was furious. They had planned to make their costumes together, even going so far as to choose matching outfits, and then Keith had practically dropped off the face of the planet--or the starship or whatever--and hadn’t said two words to him since slamming his door in Lance’s face.

Lance huffed, crossing his arms and looking over at Pidge who was seated directly to his right on the couch, engrossed in the video game, amber eyes staring through glass specs with total concentration. 

“Hey, Pidgeon.” Lance lolled his head to the side, gazing at the smaller paladin.

“Don’t call me that, Lance.”

Lance rolled his eyes, “What are you going to make today for your costume?”

Pidge shrugged and hit the pause button on the controller before casting a gaze at the lanky boy over the top of thick frames.

“If I answer your questions will you let me finish my game?”

“What, you don’t like my company Pigeon?”

Pidge paused, staring straight at Lance, and lifted the controller near a pale cheek, pushing the start button deliberately with a pursing of the lips before turning back toward the screen and ignoring Lance completely, the tiny avatar continuing their epic journey.

“No! Pidge, I’m sorry!” Lance bumped his head on Pidge’s small shoulder, practically collapsing onto the green paladin, and looked up with pouted lips, “Please, I just wanna know what you’re going as.”

Pidge sighed and pressed pause again, turning to face Lance, “Fine, but you have 5 dobashes and then it’s out of the room for you.”

Lance sat up straight, pout still firmly set on his lips, “Fine.” His expression melted into a familiar smile, “So, what are your plans?”

Pidge shrugged, “I don’t know, I’m not sure what to make. I’ve never sewn before.”

“We should make something together!” Lance elbowed Pidge in the side, “What do you say?”

A smirk slid onto Pidge’s face, throwing a side-eye at Lance, “Oh? I would have thought that you’d want to make something with Keith.”

Lance’s face darkened and he sunk back into the couch, arms crossing tightly across his chest, “He’s not really talking to me right now.”

“Hmmm, that’s interesting,” Pidge hummed lightly.

“What is?” Lance looked up, curiosity squinting through the lines of his face. “What do you mean interesting?”

“Nothing, I just heard Keith grumbling about his paired costume with you the other day when I was walking past the training hall.”

Lance’s face burned, spreading first from his cheeks all the way up to his ears, “I’m not dressing up with _him_ ,” he grumbled.

Pidge poked a small finger, digging into Lance’s cheek, “Awww, you’re blushing.”

Lance swatted at Pidge’s hand and leaned back, trying to escape, “Cut it out, Pidgeot. C’mon, I’m serious, let’s make the best costumes space has ever seen, You ‘n me! Lancey Lance and Piddy Pidge.” Lance swung his arm over Pidge’s shoulders, squeezing them in tight around the neck.

Pidge tugged at Lance’s arm, trying to wiggle free, “Okay whatever, I’ll do it if you just leave me alone and let me play my game!” Pidge’s feet kicked up in the air trying to get the most wiggle for their buck.

Lance let Pidge fall down to the couch, head landing halfway in the blue paladin’s lap. Digging elbows into the couch, Pidge pushed off Lance as quickly as was humanly possible, sitting back up, hair mussed by the scuffle. Plucking the grey controller from its cast-off landing place to one side, Pidge pressed start, “Time’s up, _Tailor_ , now leave me alone so I can get in some quality game time.”

Lance ruffled Pidge’s hair, using the head of honey locks to launch himself up off the couch. Pidge squirmed under his hand trying to get away before lifting a short foot and shoving Lance away. 

“Geddout already.” Shoving hard, the sole of Pidge’s foot dug painfully into Lance’s hip, and he held up his hands in surrender. 

“Okay, okay I’m leaving. I hope you level up for a whole hour, then die and lose all your XP and items.”

“Why would you even say that?” a shocked Pidge exclaimed. “That’s just the worst.”

“Yep.” Lance waved over his shoulder before exiting the rec room. The doors slid shut behind him and his whole body collapsed inward. Lance felt his shoulders hunch and unseeing eyes gazed down at the floor. He dragged his feet all the way to the galley.

Costume making was in a couple hours and Keith had only spoken to him for their pre-scheduled “shows”. He refused to meet in either of their rooms and Lance was at his wits’ end.

-X-

Allura and Coran had donated some of the old Altean clothes still in the castle for their use. A pile of them were stacked on the end of the table for everyone to rummage through. Lance dug through the pile looking for something that he could easily paint on. Finally he pulled out two white noble’s shirts. They were pompous in the cut, but Lance could work with that. Soon Pidge, Hunk, and Shiro starting walking into the room and joined him next to the pile. 

“So this is what we have to work with, huh?” Shiro eyed the pile before gazing at Lance for confirmation. 

Lance nodded and held up his find, “Yep, and there’s some pretty sweet stuff in there.”

Keith and Allura walked in, Coran following closely at their heels. Lance backed away from the pile as the entire group began to tear through it.

He bumped into Pidge before the young paladin had a chance to squeeze into the group crowding the pile, “I got the goods, we can start making them.”

“And what kind of costumes are we going to make with frilly white shirts, Lance?” Pidge glared at the bombastic white monstrosity hanging from Lance’s hands.

“It’s top secret. Grab some of Hunk’s paints and lets find a corner.” Lance tilted his head in the direction of the far side of the room before turning to make his way over. Pidge flipped around to peruse the variety of color options on the table next to the nuclear fallout remains of the clothes pile.

Lance set up the shirts in the corner and spread them out. He pulled out a pair of scissors and started hacking away all the frills from the shirt. A loud guffaw made him glance up at his fellow paladins gathered around the table. Hunk stood near a scattered mess of clothing, laughing through the fabric with his head stuck in a silvery grey dress. Shiro was the one who let out the guffaw, and was currently bent over laughing, but it was Keith that Lance couldn’t tear his eyes away from. 

Keith looked up at Hunk, eyes shining full of mirth and small smile hidden behind his hand. Lance’s jaw dropped. Keith, with his stupid hair, and his stupid attitude, looked _soft_. _Nice_ even. 

A flood of anger surged up from his chest and he went back to cutting off ribbons of lace, perhaps more aggressively than was absolutely necessary. Keith never smiled like that at _him_. Early morning light, a soft look, and rough fingers filled his mind and he froze mid-slice in his shirt-butchering rampage. Well, Keith hadn’t looked at him like that _since_ , he corrected himself. Lance’s face face felt hot, likely from the anger building inside him.

Pidge examined the paint table, carefully selecting the a set that included yellow, red and blue for mixing, along with a deep black and bright white. Piling the paints precariously, Pidge slowly stepped in the direction of the corner that Lance had set up for them.

Lance was knocked out of his reverie with a clatter as Pidge set down a pile of paints, “So what’s the super secret grand idea of yours anyway?”

Lance leaned in conspiratorially and held up a hand to block his mouth from view of anyone that might be watching, “One Direction and Bieber fever.” Lance’s eyes were bright and his face held a look of wonder that suggested he’d told Pidge the secret of the universe. 

They were leaned in close, foreheads almost touching and Pidge brought a hand up to join Lance in blocking their view. Pidge looked him in the eyes, blinking caramel eyelashes a few times before that tiny voice boomed, “That’s the dumbest idea I’ve ever heard.” Pidge sat back, arms crossing and glaring straight at Lance.

“You drag me into a stupid pair costumes and you want to go as a boy band?” Pidge held up two fingers and shoved them toward Lance, “Two different boy bands.”

“No, you don’t get the genius, Pidge, here look at this I’ll show you.” Lance pulled Pidge by their collar so that they were sitting shoulder-to-shoulder and started painting on a strip of mutilated shirt to diagram out what they would wear.

-X-

Keith had no clue which item he would use to make his costume for the Halloween party. He ruffled through the pile of clothes with a distant wisp of an idea of what to do. He’d seen it in a movie once and it seemed simple. If he could pull it off, it should be good enough. 

“There you are,” he whispered to himself, pulling out a white dress that looked like it would fit a giant. 

Maybe he could pull this off after all. It would take a bit of skill and patience, but he could do it.

Grasping a pair of scissors from the table--Voltron only knew where Hunk found them--he set to work. Keith carefully cut a white square from the skirt of the voluptuous dress. There were heaps of fabric and the dress pooled out in all directions drowning Keith in its folds. He took each snip with care, following the line where the fabric met the bodice. Something flashed out of the corner of his eye and he looked up to find Lance’s silver scissors reflecting the castle lights like mirror. 

Lance was sitting next to Pidge, hands cupped around their faces, foreheads basically touching and all activity hidden from view. Keith stabbed his scissors into the white fabric he was holding creating a long tear down the center of the cloth. 

Keith growled as he inspected the damage he’d done. He’ll have to start over, cutting from this point. He grabbed at his scissors again to start anew at the seam. Out of the corner of his eye, Keith saw Lance pull Pidge in close to his side and they sat, arms touching, almost holding hands. Together. Their heads bent over a white strip of shirt and Pidge was nodding and smiling and Lance smiled back. 

He should have been more careful, he was normally more careful. If he was being honest, it was more of the surprise than the pain that made him cry out. Keith yelped as the sharp scissors sliced through the skin of his fingertip.

A few eyes shot up to look him, but Keith just shook his head at Shiro and smiled, and Shiro turned back to talk with Allura. 

When he turned back around with a lapful of soft Altean cloth he was greeted by warm brown skin and concerned blue eyes. 

“Let me see it.” Lance held out his hand. 

Keith glanced around Lance’s shoulder and looked at Pidge, who had set to work eagerly painting a shirt. Lance’s face rolled back into his view as he tilted his head to block Keith from looking around him. “Let me see your finger,” a nearly horizontal Lance demanded.

“It’s nothing, I was just careless with the scissors.”

Lance made grabbing motions for Keith’s finger and pried it from under the stack of clothes that surrounded Keith. Lance winced. The cut wasn’t bad, but Lance always felt phantom pain when looking at a wound, especially small cuts and scrapes. 

Lance wrapped his hand around Keith’s wrist and pulled the Red Paladin to his feet. “We gotta get that cleaned, it’s actually kind of deep for a small cut.”

“I can do it myself.” Keith tried to wiggle his hand out of Lance’s grip.

“Nuh uh, I can’t trust you to take care of yourself. Last time you got hurt it took you four days to saying anything, and that was a broken ankle. If you hadn’t walked on it so long, you wouldn’t have needed two days in the cryopod. If I leave this one to you I don’t know how, but somehow you’ll find a way to bleed to death from a half-inch slice.” Lance tugged Keith along, holding tight to Keith’s bare hand.

Lance tugged him past Shiro, placing himself well within in the taller man’s peripheral, turning to ask, “Hey Shiro, where’s the first aid kit?

 

Shiro glanced down and thought for a moment, “I think it’s in the viewing room.” 

“There’s been a crafting accident. We’ll be right back after Keith is all patched up.” Lance gave Shiro a mock salute and dragged Keith out the door behind him.

“I can walk on my own.” Keith tried to yank his wrist away from Lance’s grip.

“Yeah, I’m not stupid,” Lance glared behind him at the sulking dark-haired boy, “you hurt your finger not your legs. But if I let go, you’ll run away.” He tugged at Keith’s wrist pointedly and guided him into the viewing room, shoving him into Hunk’s chair, “Stay put, I’m going to get the medkit.”

Keith grumbled and crossed his arms, “I’m fine, it’s just a small cut.” Lance waved him off, ignoring his protestations, focusing on searching beneath the consoles for the hidden green kit.

“Ah hah!” Lance smiled as he pulled the small green box out of it’s secluded spot near Pidge’s seat. Green box, green paladin’s seat, he should’ve known. He walked it over to Keith, setting it down beside him as he lowered himself to the floor by Keith’s feet.

Lance held out his hand and looked up expectantly at Keith. Purple eyes stared back at him in confusion, “What do you want?”

“Really, Keith, what do I want? I want your foot,” Lance said sarcastically. “What do you think I want? Give me your hand.” Lance opened and closed his fingers around his palm, motioning for Keith to place his hurt finger in his grasp.

Purple eyes looked down at Lance’s hand and back up at Lance’s eyes, flitting between the two as his brain processed his chances of getting out of this. With a sigh and a pair of slumped shoulders, Keith finally gave in and handed his wounded finger to Lance.

The blue paladin held the finger close to his face, eyes crossing slightly in concentration. Keith’s arm twisted at awkward angles as Lance pulled it this way and that, trying to see the small cut from all sides.

“I really don’t think this is necessary,” Keith muttered a breath, Lance twisting his arm far away from the midline of Keith’s body, causing the sulking boy to twist in his chair to follow the movement.

Finally, Lance gave Keith his hand back, placing it down gently back on his lap and turned to the green box. Shifting his legs beneath him, Lance kneeled in front of the box, flipped the latch, and combed through its contents. Lance pulled a foil packet from the box, holding it up to his face and biting his lip as he read the foreign text, “I’m not as good at Altean as Pidge, but I’m pretty sure this is going to sting.”

“What? I don’t trust that!” Keith objected, shifting himself back in the seat, pulling away from the brown-haired paladin. “Don’t put some alien stuff on me if you don’t even know what it is.”

Lance glared up, not quite meeting Keith in the eyes. He held his finger under a specific set of letters, “This means ‘antibiotic’ so it’s not going to kill you. But it might sting.”

Keith relaxed a little and held his finger out to Lance, “When did you learn to read Altean?”

Lance shifted forward, standing on his knees in front of Keith. He looked up from opening the foil packet and Keith realized that the new position brought Lance much closer then he’d thought.

Soft stray brown whips of hair tickled Keith’s forehead and his vision was overwhelmed with bright blue eyes. He glanced down to Lance’s lips, surprised to see them moving, he forced his brain to shut up and focus the words.

“...drag you here just to be able to talk to you.”

“What?”

Lance rolled his eyes and looked down to Keith’s finger in his hand, “It’s really unfair you know. No te rajes, okay? We’re supposed to be in this together.”

Lance spread pearlescent white goo on his finger and started rubbing it lightly in circles over the cut. It stung.

“Ow! Ow ow ow _ow_! That _hurts_ , Lance!”

Lance’s eyes flashed up to meet his own. Pulling the finger toward his lips, Lance blew softly on the cut. Cool air caressed the burning nick and the pain lessoned. Keith’s face grew warm and light pink dusted his cheeks and the tips of his ears.

“Wow that worked,” Keith said awestruck.

“I have a big family so there are a bunch of littles at home and Tío Lance has patched up more than a few knees. And toes. And fingers. And elbows,” he continued, pondering as if remembering each injury afresh, “And shins. A cut like this is nothing for my skills,” Lance boasted, a wide smile crossing his face. Keith couldn’t help smiling back, a small smile, but there all the same.

Lance broke eye contact first, sitting back on his heels and leaning down to rustle through the open box once more. Letting out a triumphant sound, Lance rocked back onto the tops of his knees, holding up a bandage aloft. Lance opened the package, gently slipping the small bandage out and carefully winding it around the circumference of Keith’s finger.

“There,” Lance said with a satisfied sigh, “Try moving your finger.” Keith wiggled the digit and his joint moved stiffly, but manageably. Lance leaned in to look at the bandage, “Hmm, looks like you can move it a little. Is it too tight?”

Keith could smell Lance’s shampoo in his hair, the sweet scent filling the short distance between them. Keith coughed, “Uh, no it feels fine, just a little stiff.”

“Well it’s basically a bandaid, so that should be pretty normal. Does it still burn at all?”

“No. It’s fine now.” Keith shook his head in time with his words.

“Well, that’s good,” Lance said with a smile, eyes flitting up to pin directly into Keith’s own. “So, you going to tell me why you abandoned me, or what? What happened to our plan?” Lance’s eyes grew sharp and he placed his fisted hands on his hips.

Keith looked down. “I’m still following the plan.”

“The hell you are! You haven’t sat next to me once since pancake day, you refuse to even _talk_ about the plan. I didn’t even know if we’d decided to hold hands today or not since you’ve been so stubborn!”

“Well, I guess we kind of naturally held hands. You held my hand and dragged me out of galley.”

Lance sighed, rubbing his eyes into the palms of his hands as his head shook, “That was your wrist, Keith. It doesn’t count.”

“Well, I think it counts,” Keith said softly.

Lance dug his palms deeper into his eyes before pulling both of his hands through his hair and intertwining them behind his head as he exhaled, puffing out his cheeks. “Okay, Keith. First, that does not count as hand-holding, I don’t care who you are. And second, I thought you wanted to do this, but now I don’t think you do. So maybe we should call the whole thing off.”

“That’s not fair, Lance.”

“No, it is fair. You know what’s not fair? Ignoring me and ditching me and hiding behind your boyfriend Shiro, that’s what’s not fair!” Lance let his hands drop to his neck and he pulled at his entwined fingers and let his head fall back to rest on his hands as he grimaced at the castle’s ceiling.

“Lance! Shiro is not my boyfriend, how many times do I have to tell you?”

“Until it’s true, because I see the way you look at him. I’m not blind,” he added, and let his arms fall to his sides Lance sat back on his heels, shoulders slumped. He held himself up, leaning on his knees, but spoke to the ground, “Everyone knows, you can stop lying.”

“What do you mean everyone knows?” Keith asked quietly.

“Everyone knows! Lance’s head shot up looking Keith dead in the eye, “Pidge knows. Hunk knows. Allura knows. Everyone knows! That’s why they all bet that we wouldn’t be dating, because you’re with Shiro! So. Stop. Lying.” He dug his nails into his palms as white-hot anger coursed through him, fueling him with the courage to finally say it.

Keith’s face scrunched up, confusion permeating every inch of him, “But I’m not,” he whispered.

“ _But I’m not._ ” Lance mocked, “Oh yeah? Prove it!” Lance stood up and crossed his arms in front of him.

“How am I supposed to prove something like that?” Keith’s voice started to rise, matching Lance’s anger.

“I dunno. Do something with someone else then! Kiss Pidge or something.”

“I don’t want to kiss Pidge, and I shouldn’t have to kiss Pidge to prove anything.”

“Why, what’s wrong with Pidge, huh? Not good enough for the Great Keith Yeun?”

“I don’t kiss just anyone, I’m not _you!_ ” Keith yelled, shooting out of his chair and getting into Lance’s face.

“I don’t kiss just anyone either!” Lance screamed.

“What about Nymny, and the mermaids huh? Sounds like you kissed all of them just fine!”

“Wha? Who….Nyma? No, dude she abandoned me on a planet and stole my Lion, I’m not going to kiss that no matter how hot she is, and the mermaid kissed me. I’m not some slut, Keith. I care about love, not making out.”

Keith scoffed, “That’s rich coming from you.” his eyes became hard and cold as he glared at the other boy. “Lance cares about _love_. Are you kidding me? You’ve flirted with any girl that _breathes_ since the day we met!”

“That’s not true, Keith! And what’s it to you who I flirt with anyway, huh? Why do you even care?”

Keith slouched and backed off a little, pulling away, “I don’t.”

Lance stepped forward, shoving himself back into Keith’s personal space, “No, none of that. You obviously do. But _why_ do you?”

“I don’t know, okay?!” Keith yelled too loud, some spit landed on the taller boy’s face, “I don’t know why I care, I just do! Agh,” he groaned. Pulling at his hair and spinning around, Keith stomped a foot down to stop his turn, facing away from Lance. He crossed his arms and glared at the spot in front of him refusing to acknowledge what had just happened. He focused on breathing. 

_In. Out. In. Out._

He jumped as a firm hand landed on his shoulder and he looked back into soft blue eyes. The hand tightened and pulled him to face the other boy. He stumbled a little as his feet tangled from the inertia of the spin and ended up stumbling forward into Lance’s arms.

He pushed against the other boy’s chest and tried to pull away but Lance had latched onto his wrists.

“Tell me,” Lance breathed.

Keith looked down and away, not meeting Lance’s eyes, “Look, I just,” Keith slumped, falling almost limp in Lance’s grip. Lance was holding up the full weight of Keith’s arms. It was like watching a guitar wire snap, strung too tight the pressure released causing Keith to curl in on himself all at once. “I only have so many people in my life, less now that we’re in space. Losing any of you…” Keith sucked in a breath and started over, “I’m not supposed to feel this way, no one is permanent.” 

Keith’s hands fell down to his sides as Lance released his wrists. Keith could feel the rejection permeating the air, he didn’t dare look at the disappointment and repulsion that was definitely on Lance’s face. 

His eyes widened, every inch of his body stiffening as long warm arms enfolded themselves around Keith’s back, pinning his arms to his side. Soft brown hair tickled his cheek as Lance’s head made itself a the nest in the crook of his neck. 

Lance’s voice was muffled as he spoke into Keith’s shoulder, “Keith, no. We may not have gotten along at the beginning. Heck, you didn’t even know who I was, I was so far outside your radar. But I think of you as a friend, now. Just because I flirt with someone doesn’t make us any less of friends.”

Lance gripped his shoulders and pushed Keith back so that they could speak face-to-face, “You’re an important member of Voltron, and you’re an important friend to me. Do you hear me?” Keith nodded mutely and looked down at his boots. “Do you feel better?”

Keith took a moment to evaluate how he felt. He felt a little better, but there was still a stream of anger and confusion that stung within his diaphragm at Lance’s words. There was still something that he didn’t like, something that burned and cut at him. He replayed Lance’s words over and over trying to uncover some flaw. But being Lance’s friend was more than enough, more than Keith could ever ask for. There was no fault in those words.

Keith shook his head yes, earning himself a firm pat on the back, “Good, then let’s get back to the party! Poor Pidge is making our costumes all alone.”

Keith followed Lance back into the room and Lance walked over with him to the ruffle of skirts on the floor that laid abandoned just as Keith had left them. 

Lance paused, then looked around the room to make sure no one was looking and laced his fingers through Keith’s. Lance’s long, thin brown fingers curled around his slightly sweaty palm, slender fingers fitting comfortably in the grooves of his hand. Lance squeezed briefly and looked at Keith in the eyes before smiling and pulling away. As Lance began to turn away Keith saw a flash of reflected light out of the corner of his eye. When he looked in its direction, he saw only Pidge, head bowed, working diligently on the paired costumes. 

Maybe he imagined it. 

Lance swiftly made his way over to Pidge and cringed at the completed outfits, “Oh man, Pidge, I’m so sorry! I didn't expect Keith’s finger to take so long to patch up.”

To his surprise, Pidge didn’t look mad, instead a long smile crept its way across a petite face, “No worries, Lance. It seems like you were preoccupied, I hear that’s been happening a lot recently.”

Lance looked down at Pidge’s hunched form curiously, “What do you mean?”

The muscles of Pidge’s neck tensed, tossing a head of hair to one side, light brown curls bouncing in the light of the castle, “Nothing. Look, they’re all done!” Sitting back, Pidge indicated the two shirts on the floor with both arms outstretched.

“Wow, Pidge this is _amazing_. I think you did better without me than if I’d actually been here to help.” 

Pidge gleamed with pride, rubbing at that petite nose, “It was nothing. I could get an even better result if given proper time and equipment.”

Lance’s shirt was painted like a compass with no letters on it except South, the painted arrow pointing down to it. _One Direction_. Pidge’d even written the names of all the band members. 

“Uh Harry is on there twice,” Lance said, pointing at the pair of names.

“One is for Potter.” Pidge started putting caps on all the paints, already preparing to stow them away on the table.

Lance shrugged, and frankly he didn’t care. Admittedly, Pidge’s shirt was way better than his. Bieber was written in bold, dark letters across the front and Pidge had painted bandaids scattered across the shirt’s surface. The amber-eyed paladin had even rolled up some scraps and painted it into a thermometer. _Beiber Fever_

“Wow, Pidge these are so good, I can’t wait to wear them at the party.”

Pidge leaned back, putting all their weight on their hands, “You still sure you wouldn’t rather be doing this with Keith?” 

Lance guffawed, “Keith doesn’t know who anyone is, let alone One Direction and Bieber. You can at least appreciate the costume.”

Pidge shrugged, “I don’t think this is really about who can appreciate your bad puns.”

“Of course it is!” Lance gathered up their painted shirts carefully and nodded towards the door, “Pun appreciation is the most important quality I seek in a friend.”

Pidge shook their head, “Of course it is.” Pidge deposited the used paints back on the table and they picked their way through the battlefield of destroyed atlean clothes. 

Once they reached the private quarters hallway Lance handed Pidge the Bieber shirt, “We’re going to rock this party!” Lance held up his hand out to Pidge.

Pidge jumped and landed a high five with a loud clap.

“See you in a few hours!” Pidge called.

“You better be in my room for makeup at 7 on the dot!” Lance yelled to Pidge’s back.

He turned to enter his room and get ready for the party that night.

-X-

Keith fiddled with the long piece of fabric he’d carefully cut. There were no more accidents following the first one. It was much easier to concentrate once Lance and Pidge had left.

He’d borrowed a white shirt from Hunk and it hung off him like tent, just barely clinging onto the edges of his shoulders. It swept down like a dress stopping at his mid-thigh for some modesty. He decided to go barefoot, figuring his boots didn’t really match his costume. Lance was offering do everyone’s make up in his room but Keith figured he’d be safe without it, since his face would be covered by his costume. 

He pulled the large sheet of fabric over his head and lined up his eyes with the holes that he painstakingly cut. They were a bit crooked and no matter what he did, a little bit of cloth blocked his vision.

He looked himself in the mirror. WIthout Lance’s guidance he thought he did pretty good for himself. It came out almost exactly like the movie he’d copied it from. A pure white ghost with slightly lopsided eyes stared back at him. _Perfect_

Keith snaked his way through the halls to the party room, careful of how he stepped since his peripheral was completely blocked and the long fabric often tangled between his feet.

Keith struggled with what they were about to do. Maybe they should let the whole bet situation drop. Who cared if their friends were betting on them. The only thing this bet had done was make everything even more confusing. It made Lance more confusing. 

Keith rubbed his fingers across his hand that Lance had squeezed earlier that day. It was just a thing friends do right? Keith raked his memories for when Lance had grabbed Pidge’s or Hunk’s hand, or even Allura’s, and came up desperately empty.

_What does it mean?_

Keith shifted under the large cloth and tried to pull it up off his hand so he could press the door release. The white fabric kept falling down covering parts of his hand, blocking the sensors from opening the door. Keith growled and ripped the the sheet away from his hand and slammed it down onto the console. The doors swished open.

Keith took stock of the room. Shiro stood in a group, chatting amiably with Pidge and Hunk. He was in a ripped up shirt and pants, his face painted a ghoulish green with a drawn on jaw bone that was shockingly realistic from this distance. 

Pidge’s hair was swept to the side and expertly drawn up into a fashionable style, face sporting dark circles around the eyes, skin sweaty and sickly looking. 

But it was Hunk that drew his full attention. From head to toe he was covered in an expertly-crafted werewolf costume. His face was covered by a wolf mask and his arms were covered in grey fur. Somehow he’d constructed giant wolf paws for his legs and feet and his hands wore huge claws. It was realistic and downright scary. 

Shiro noticed his entrance and waved Keith over to their group. He joined them and looked up at the intricate details in Hunk’s costume, “Wow, Hunk that’s really impressive.”

The ferocious werewolf shifted awkwardly, claw coming to rub at its neck throwing the whole intimidating image into awkward timidity, “Thanks Keith. I just finished. I was worried I wouldn’t be done in time.” 

Keith nervously shifted his sheet to line up better with his eyes suddenly embarrassed at his own costume. Maybe he should have left Lance in charge of it, even if he was trying to desperately avoid the other boy. 

“What are you supposed to be Pidge?” Keith asked the youngest paladin. 

“Beiber Fever.” Pidge replied, “It was Lance’s grand idea.” 

Keith nodded, his sheet rubbing against his hair, “Cool.”

“Are you supposed to be a ghost?” Shiro asked innocently, but the query made Keith cringe.

“Uh yeah. I didn’t want to put too much effort into my costume,” Keith lied.

The door swished open, the change in air pressure causing a breeze to ruffle his ghost costume.

Lance joined them in the group and leaned an elbow on Pidge’s head, “Everyone ready to get this party started?”

“Oh! I made snacks! “ Hunk said excitedly, “I’ll go get them. I was so worried about finishing my costume I forgot to bring in the snacks.” 

“Yes! Hunk’s cooking, my body is ready!” Lance cheered.

“I’ll help you carry everything,” Shiro offered following the hulking wolf down the corridor that connected the room to the kitchens. 

Lance clapped and rubbed his hands together, “Let’s play a game while we wait!” 

“I don’t think there’s much time for games, Lance.” Pidge said.

“Nonsense, there is always time for party games. C’mon Keith, you’re down right?”

Keith shrugged under his sheet, “What game were you thinking?”

Lance whooped and tugged the two shorter paladins with him to a corner of the room that had makeshift pins made out of empty bottles and a roundish potato-looking vegetable. The bottles were painted like different halloween monsters and the potato had a scared face painted on it. 

“What’s all this?” Pidge asked.

“Bowling!” Lance boasted, “Well, as close as I could get it. See? Watch.” Lance rolled the potato-thing at the bottles and scattered a few as the potato hit them a little off center. 

Lance ran after the potato and set the bottles back up, he threw the potato at Keith with a, “Think fast.”

Keith grabbed at the small vegetable with sheet-covered hands and fumbled. The slippery brown flesh slipped through the fabric and fell on the floor. He bent to pick it up but the eye holes moved as he squatted and he was greeted with the inside of his own costume. He growled and grabbed blindly at the small round potato.

A set of hands grabbed his and shoved the vegetable firmly into his cupped hands. Keith stood up and readjusted his sheet so he could see again. Both Lance and Pidge were silently laughing behind their hands, eyes wide and smiling. 

He stood up straighter, “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, nothing at all,” Lance said between giggles and Pidge burst out laughing doubling over and clutching an apparently pained stomach.

Keith rolled his eyes and threw the potato at the bottles, they all scattered and one shattered.

“Oh my god, Keith! You’re supposed to _roll_ it!” Lance shrieked, voice dripping with absolute disbelief.

“Wow, Keith, are you okay?” Pidge looked up at Keith, concerned.

Keith was grateful for the fabric that covered his face as he blushed, his ghost costume felt sufficating and too hot.

“I...didn’t realize.” He attempted to cover the shame in his voice.

Lance deflated a little as Hunk and Shiro walked back in, arms full of snacks and treats, “Don’t worry about it, man. I’ll clean this up, why don’t you and Pidge get started on the food.” Lance bent down and carefully picked up the glass shards and cracked bottles. 

Keith bit his lip, unsure if he should just let Lance clean up by himself but Pidge made up his mind for him, pushing Keith toward the table, “C’mon Keith, let him mourn. He’s been painting those all week as a surprise for everyone. He’ll need some time to process.” Keith let himself be pushed toward Hunk and Shiro and the table of treats.

 

The table was spread full of candied apples, caramel corn, pies, cookies, and pizza. Keith’s mouth watered. Everyone dug in, filling plates full of sweet treats and piles of pizza slices. Keith held his plate in the confines of his costume as he let the cheese pizza melt over his tongue and sighed contentedly. Hunk’s cooking was a gift from the goddess herself.

Lance slid up next to him, apparently done cleaning up the mess he’d made. Keith looked back at the bowling game he’d broken. The bottles that were unharmed had been rearranged and all the glass fragments were gone.

“I’m sorry,” Keith said, still looking over his shoulder at the game.

“Don’t worry about it, buddy, it was just trash I upcycled. No harm, no foul.” Lance bumped his shoulder into Keith’s, smiling.

Keith smiled back, but it was hidden by his sheet, “I’m still sorry.”

“Nope, I can’t be mad when I’m eating space pizza.” Lance shook his head violently, left arm waving back and forth in sync. “Just stop talking about it and let me enjoy the _only_ pizza I’ve had since we left earth,” Lance huffed, loading his plate.

“Okay, I’ve had enough.” Pidge’s voice burst out, drowning all the small conversations scattered throughout the room, “What is going on between the two of you?”

Lance elbowed Keith and sent him an “it’s time” look. Keith started to panic. He was still unsure about this whole thing. “Can’t we talk?” he whispered to Lance, but Lance was already speaking.

Lance coughed fakely into his closed fist, “Uh, Keith and I have something to tell everyone.”

Keith tugged on Lance’s shirt with his free hand, left hand clutching desperately at his plate and whispered harshly, “Stop it, Lance.”

Lance pulled his arm away from Keith, “Me and Keith have discovered something and we want to share it with everyone,” Lance took in a deep breath, “We know about the bet.”

Keith growled and pushed at Lance. Lance pushed back glaring at Keith.

Lance turned back to observe the various faces displaying looks that ranged from shock to horror, “We know, and we’re upset that our friends would make a bet on our love life.” 

Keith dropped his plate, pizza forgotten and threw his hands in the air before crossing them, there was no use stopping Lance now.

Lance continued, “Sure, Keith is my friend, but why go so far as to take bets on our relationship? That’s not what friends do. I’m hurt, and Keith is, too. Especially since his own ‘brother’,” Lance used air quotes, “would bet on him.”

Shiro stepped forward at that, shame reddening his features, “I really am sorry about that. I should have put a stop to it as soon as I found out.” He turned to Keith, “I’m sorry, Keith. Who you like or don’t like is none of our business.”

Lance leaned back on his heels and looked down at the floor, “Thanks Shiro, but we don’t think it’s fair that you bet gaming hours on us. What’s going to happen to that bet?”

“You’re right Lance.” Shiro glared at Pidge and Hunk, “all the game time that everyone bet will be erased. No one gets anything from the bet.”

Lance pouted, “Thank you, Shiro, but I think it would be more of a punishment if you let me ‘n Keith take their hours.”

Shiro paused for a moment, considering, “Okay, Lance. Since we were in the wrong, you and Keith can split all bet gaming hours. Everyone who participated will lose their time.” Hunk and Pidge groaned and started to complain. Lance whooped and pumped his fist into the air, “Yes!” he turned to Keith, “We did it!” He held out his fist for a fist bump.

The ghost looked down at the hand and back at the rest of the group then turned and stalked out of the room, bare feet slapping against the castle floor and white cloth billowing around him as he left.

Lance stood for a moment in shock before his brain restarted and he ran after Keith. Choruses of “I’m sorry, Keith” grew distant as he ran after the fluttering ghost.

Lance caught up to Keith in the hallway and grabbed at the white fabric, tugging. Keith grabbed the other end and held tight.

“Wait, Keith, what’s wrong? We won!”

Keith spun around yanking the fabric from Lance’s fingers, “What’s wrong? I’ll tell you what’s wrong. This whole thing is just about getting more game time _for you_. Why didn’t we just tell them we knew right away? Why did we even have to pretend to be together, huh? What was the point? All it did was confuse me, Lance!”

Lance stumbled back at the tirade of words that shot at him from the normally quiet red paladin. 

“I..I..It was the plan, we were just messing with everyone, for fun. To get back at them.” Lance stuttered, trying to make sense of what was happening while simultaneously offering some excuse for his behavior and choices.

“Well I’m done, I didn’t want to do this anymore. I’m done with _you_!” Keith yelled. Tears started to fall down his face, hot and wet.

Lance visibly shrunk, “Oh.” 

A sob clawed it’s way out of Keith's throat and he started to shake.

“Woah, are you okay under there?” Lance said, craning his neck to peek through one of the eye holes, careful to keep his distance.

“No, I am not okay, Lance. You used me so you could get stupid GF2 hours.”

“I didn’t use you, we agreed together that this was the plan from the beginning.”

“Yeah, well, it’s easy for you because you don’t have feelings for me li-” Keith stopped short, cloth covered hands shooting up to slap over his mouth. “I didn’t mean that…” he voice spoke, muffled by hands and fabric.

Piercing blue eyes bore into his, “I have feelings, Keith.”

“They aren’t the same.” Keith tried to walk away, but Lance grabbed a handful of fabric.

“How do you know that?” Lance asked quietly.

“Know what?” Keith grumbled.

“That my feelings aren’t the same as yours. You never asked me, so how do you know?” Lance spoke softly, his voice barely above a whisper so that Keith strained to hear what he was saying over the sound of the fabric shifting around his ears. “Ask me.”

Keith stood unmoving, tears drying on his cheeks, leftover hiccupping sobs invading his breath every so often as it slowed and evened.

“ _Ask me._ ” Lance said again, more forceful.

“I...um.” Keith hiccuped, “How do you feel ab...about me?”

Lance sighed and let go of Keith’s sheet, “At first, it was just jealousy that I tried to cover up with rivalry. But after we joined Voltron and we started working together, I realized I think you’re pretty cool. Great, even.” Lance sighed and shifted his weight, fingers messing with the paint on his shirt, “Everything about you is perfect, you know? That’s kinda hard to deal with. You’re an amazing pilot, you’re clearly Shiro’s favorite, and you look…” Lance ran his fingers through his hair exhaling, “really cool when you fight. You’re nice and kind and care about saving the universe.” Lance’s eyes flashed up to meet Keith’s briefly before confessing, “And you’re unfairly hot. It should be illegal to be as good-looking as you. And you don’t even have a skin care routine! It’s really not fair.”

Keith’s mouth dropped open and his mind raced trying to process everything Lance had thrown at him. One foot lifted and stepped back, poised to make a run for it, almost sure Lance was making fun of him until his eye caught a flash of pain cross those dark blue eyes. 

Keith paused his escape, shifted his body forward, and in two bounds was nose-to-nose with Lance. He gathered up fistfuls of white sheet and flung it above his head, causing the fabric to puff up above their heads like a parachute. Keith pulled down on the fabric, draping it over Lance’s head and used the sheet to hold the other boy’s neck in place. The sheet floated down tenting around both boys in a flutter, giving them privacy from any prying eyes.

Keith looked at Lance’s wide eyes, confusion swirling in their depths, then trailed his gaze down to smooth, brown lips. Keith closed the distance.

His full lips met Lance’s thin ones in a flurry of lips and teeth. Keith squeezed his eyes shut and Lance’s tongue flitted across his bottom lip. Keith gasped, his mouth opened slightly and Lance’s tongue didn’t wait to slip through. Long arms engulfed his waist, one hand climbing up his back until warm fingers wrapped themselves around silky strands of ebony hair. Keith’s borrowed shirt slipped from its precarious place on his shoulder at Lance’s greedy hands, falling sidelong across his body. Shirt now clinging for dear life on only one shoulder.

Keith put all his anger, frustration and need into the kiss and was met with passion equal to his own. Keith tugged at the sheet forcing Lance closer to him and reveled in the feeling. They broke apart, panting and out of breath.

Keith was high on adrenaline and his face was flushed pink as he clung onto the taller boy.

“Wow. That was….wow.” Lance smiled between breaths.

Keith couldn’t help the laugh that burst from his chest, relief flooding out from his heart to the tips of his fingers and toes. Across from him, Lance started to giggle, growing steadily into peals of laughter as their foreheads met. Keith laughed, too, staring into Lance’s eyes, blue orbs glistening like the surface of the ocean, and saw a tear of mirth drip from one corner, Lance’s eyes brightening with a smile as they stared back into Keith’s. 

Breaking his gaze, Lance watched his own finger as he traced a smooth line down Keith’s jaw, a mimic of the motion Keith had used in the stillness of the sleepy morning, waking to realize they’d slept so close, “Me encantas.”

Keith looked at him questioningly, but Lance just shook his head and gathered Keith up in another kiss, arms drawn tightly around Keith, finally feeling at home here among the stars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did it! I made it! I finished all the October Prompts! *sobs uncontrollably* This was so hard to write. This fic was what people mean about blood sweat and tears. Writing a full story once a week while living life was _hard_ but I did it! I could NOT have done this without all the support from my beautiful friends on the Klance Amino. Thank you to KingChlee, Gasolina, Crystal Collision, and Lance McClain  <3333 for cheering me on so that I'd finish even after Halloween had passed and I lost all motivation. 
> 
> Super Special thanks to [Starbuck7](http://starbuck-7.tumblr.com/) for being the best editor in the world! And being right there with me as we painfully completed this challenge. Go check her out too, she did one who complete story for these prompts and it is AMAZING!!
> 
> [Stalk me on Tumblr!](http://yuzuling.tumblr.com/) Because I love you!


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